


something you love enough to protect

by cruelest_month



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Back Together, M/M, Monster husbands in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: “Then why can I never steal you away?” he asks quietly.Elias kisses him to keep from having to answer.After a year-long break up, Elias and Peter meet again in Iceland.





	something you love enough to protect

**Author's Note:**

> Why Iceland? I researched past archival conferences for PeterElias ideas. The event in question can be found [here](https://www.ica.org/en/annual-conference-2015).

_Reykjavik, Iceland - September 2015_

The metallic keycard falls out of the envelope along with his pass and lanyard. It lands with a soft thud, gleaming against the clear glass of the tabletop. 

_Black Pearl. Tryggvagata 18, 101._ is engraved into the surface of the card. A dark grey post-it note is attached to it with silver writing. Skip the conference. Come to the penthouse. Don’t make me find you. The threat is softened by a xoxo.

Elias turns the item over in hands and sighs. How it got there is baffling, but Peter has his ways. 

He hasn’t heard from Peter in a year or so. Not since Gertrude… Well, she isn’t a problem any longer. Did Peter know? Elias has meant to tell him but they’d parted on bad terms, both of them angry at each other. Or perhaps merely frustrated. This is not to say there haven’t been texts, trysts, or gifts. But they haven’t really spoken. 

The Annual Conference for the International Council on Archives has a decent theme this year. None of it is particularly relevant to the Institute, but Elias likes to travel. No one questions his going and he’ll be the one signing off on his own expenses. It’s raining when he sets out from his hotel. Just a light drizzle and there isn’t much in the way of crowds. He walks around a bit, picks up a program, and stops by some booths. That’ll be enough. He’s not exactly a person of interest, not here anyway.

He stops at a café to read and debate. There are good reasons to go and good reasons to stay. Curiosity is why he settles for going, but this is not the primary motivating factor. Not even remotely. 

The Black Pearl is sleek and, as its name suggests, black. Water runs down in slowly like blood from an open wound. He walks inside and takes the empty elevator up to the top. The door turns before he can use the key. It opens but no one is there behind it. He sighs quietly, amused by the theatrics. Pocketing the card, which he thinks to keep for a souvenir, he enters. 

The penthouse is well lit and lavish. Beyond that, Elias hardly pays it any attention. Peter is sitting at the head of a massive dining table, his feet propped up against it as he stares down at his phone. He looks up after a moment and smiles warmly. “Hello, darling.”

Pet names annoy him but this one… Elias thaws to this one. It addresses an unspoken worry that he will never express. He’s not sure Peter is aware of it. He decides to pretend that Peter is not.

Peter sets the phone down, all but slamming it against the table. He comes over to Elias to kiss him and then to grasp his arms. “You went to the conference anyway.”

“Only briefly.”

“Hm. And don’t you look dashing. Is this for me?”

“This is what I was wearing,” Elias says, unsure what else to say. He’s got on the suit he packed. It is one of many. There’s nothing even vaguely remarkable about it. “So what brings you to Reykjavik?”

Peter shrugs. “Skate fishing and you.”

“Skate fishing?”

“The holiest fish in the sea. They’ll watch a man drown for nine days before eating him for nine more. Saint Peter gave the things nine qualities that are good and nine that are bad. Bland despite all that. Tastes a bit like scallops when cooked and it is positively ghastly when fermented. But, of course, you knew all this.”

“Oddly my knowledge in regards to Icelandic lore for cartilaginous fish belonging to the family Rajidae is rudimentary at best,” Elias wryly admits. “Whatever do you want them for?”

“Skate-stones. They’ll make you invisible for an hour. Think of the fun we’d have then.”

“It’s a shame that you only research such trivial nonsense and solely to irritate me.”

Peter turns solemn. He lets his hands slide down to take Elias’ in his. “Not solely. Never solely. You’re not being very nice, you know. It’s been your turn to send me something. I can’t have several messages in a row. Makes me look desperate.”

“I don’t always have a lot of free time.”

“Bullshit. You just never text back if I use emojis.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “They’re strange. There’s only so many times I can tell you that I have no interest in watering your aubergines.”

Peter snorts.

“I've made my opinion on them quite clear. They're juvenile and anyone could see them.”

“I lock my phone. Don’t you lock your phone?” Peter frowns. “Elias, you have to use your security features.”

Elias nods reluctantly. “All right, all right. At any rate, the Institute has kept me busy.”

“That’s why you’re here with me. You need a holiday. Would you like some blueberries?”

“Why would I—”

“It’s the season for them. And there’s crowberries but I’m not quite sure there’s a significant difference.”

Elias shakes his head and chuckles. “I suppose if it’s the season.”

“More importantly, there’s this.” Peter says, gesturing to the ice bucket on the dining table’s center. There’s a dark green champagne bottle with gold and yellow labels. “Just simple Veuve Clicquot. You’re always so offended when it’s a rare vintage.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“You or skate fishing. Take your pick,” Peter says. He picks up the bottle and pops it open.

Elias smiled thinly. 

“Don’t be glum, dear, not when I’m so happy to see you. Don’t you deserve champagne? I think you do.”

“Is there… We’re not cross still?” Elias asks as he moves over to Peter.

“Elias… I daresay this is remarkably disappointing,” Peter observes rather coolly. “If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn’t do it with champagne and wild blueberries. Nor would I murder you in a penthouse.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because this is a reward not a punishment.”

“All right, but what precisely is it for?”

Peter sighs gently, cupping Elias’ cheek. “My dreary little beholder, always waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall,” he muses. “Whatever you’re thinking is going to happen, isn’t. I’m not even sure I remember what we fought about. So there’s no Lukas family assassin waiting across the way for my signature nod of approval. The conference wasn’t something I set up to lure you here. And I’m not going to trap you in this penthouse with me. Not even though I want to. Unless…”

“Unless?”

Peter grins wickedly. “Unless you were to beg as that would be a different matter entirely. Who would I be to refuse you then?”

Elias gives him a look.

Peter simply shrugs. He sets down the bottle and brings Elias’ right hand up to his lips. “I did say ‘unless,’ and until such a time? There’s nothing I intend to do besides enjoy you.”

“I’m only here for a few days.”

“But?”

Elias feels as if he’s caught in a patch of brambles or trapped in a sticky candy house. Peter is clingy when he’s on the verge of getting what he wants. He’s possessive after and during and… He’ll let go. Eventually. He won’t particularly want to but the separation makes the return that much better. 

Elias doesn’t entirely mind. He feels that he ought to, but he never truthfully does. And it’s been far too long since he last let Peter have him. “If you cover my expenses, I can see my way to staying a bit longer.”

Peter smiles triumphantly. “Oh, certainly. I’d do that anyway.” He goes back to the bottle, pouring two generous glasses for them. 

He hands Elias one and then takes the other, clinking them together. “To you.”

Elias allows this with a small sigh. “To me." He takes a sip and then another. "How did you get the keycard in that envelope anyway?”

“I can’t tell you all of my secrets. You’d grow bored.”

Elias frowns slightly. “Just that particular one?”

Peter shakes his head. “But I can tell you that until just recently I was in Alftanes. Highways are being built but not where we want them. So I was sent to arrange for some unpleasantness as a construction company attempted to pave over a lava field. Once that was done, I sold several properties that have been in the family for far too long and at a steep price too.”

Oh to have been a fly on the wall when Nathaniel was handing over such a ridiculous assignment. “That seems…”

“Like a waste of my particular skill set? Oh, it was, but now there’s a fun game you can play. Was it _huldufólk_ or was it Peter Lukas?”

“With all this fishing and berry-picking and keeping up with the seasons maybe you’re more like an elf than we previously imagined.”

Peter kisses him, tugging at Elias’ hair before letting a hand rest against the shell of Elias’ ear. Behind them there’s a slight clink as Peter puts down his champagne flute.

Elias’ hip digs into the table behind them as he’s pressed against it. Peter deepens the kiss, his fingers brushing lightly over Elias’ back. “Then why can I never steal you away?” he asks quietly.

Elias kisses him to keep from having to answer.

___________

The penthouse bed – one of several – is a king. Still, they curl up in the center of it. Elias wakes up in the middle of the night, wrapping his fingers around Peter’s. Peter’s hands are warm against Elias’ skin. They have a few nights together. Then they’ll part ways. They’ll try again with texting and calling. They can arrange for visits this time. That will be better.

“I might need you to do something for me,” he says, half-hoping Peter won’t hear him.

But he does. Peter exhales sharply. “What sort of something?”

“I don’t know yet. Things are in motion. A great deal is likely to change on me, but you haven’t. If I needed something done, I think I can ask you for it.”

“Must be nice having your own Lukas at your beck and call.”

“No, not like that,” Elias insists. He brings Peter’s arm up and wraps both of his around it. He kisses the back of Peter’s hand before slowly letting go. “It’s not at all like that. I trust you.”

“Then don’t end up in situations that require things of me. Let’s have trusting each other be the one stupid thing we do between now and next we meet.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“No?” Peter growls out. He grabs Elias, turning him so that they’re facing each other. “Let’s be clear on this one specific point, shall we? If you get yourself killed, you won’t like the lengths I go to in order to bring you back.”

“You needn’t be so dramatic.”

“Well, how about this then? I’ll do this something for you even if it makes me hate you ever so slightly.”

Elias stroked Peter’s cheek, nuzzling his neck. “No, it doesn’t,” he says, meeting Peter’s gaze.

“Time will tell,” Peter mutters. He must see something in Elias’ eyes because he sighs. He strokes Elias’ cheek and relents. “No, it doesn’t. It just ought to.”

“There’s a bright side to all of this, dear. Whatever it is you do, once it’s done… I’ll be ever so thankful.”

“Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll go away with you for a long time. We’ll sail back this way and see the northern lights. We’ll drink champagne to your good health and I’ll hand feed you exotic blueberries.”

“Will you have hand picked them, carefully selecting each one?”

“Yes. Naked,” Elias deadpans. 

“It sounds like I’ll have to supervise,” Peter murmurs with a dreamy smile. 

Elias chuckles quietly. He shifts a bit, curling up against Peter’s back and wrapping his arms around him. “Whatever you’d like.”

“I like it very much. I’ll have to treasure it for the half minute that it lasts.”

Elias hummed softly, kissing the back of Peter’s neck. “It’s not the same when I'm without you. I suppose… Well, it seems I must have missed you, but you knew that.”

Peter’s silent for a while. For so long that Elias thinks that maybe he’s gone back to sleep. Eventually he runs his fingers over Elias’ hands and sighs. “Perhaps. All the same, I love hearing you say it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh, I did Icelandic folklore research for this. I have fun doing research. That's how I found the hotel too!
> 
> \- Strange stuff about skates can be found [here under the entry for _Skötumóðir_](https://abookofcreatures.com/category/iceland/).
> 
> \- _Huldufólk_ are the hiddenfolk aka elves. While Peter Lukas wasn't involved, the situation he deals with did happen in 2015. More on that [here](https://guidetoiceland.is/history-culture/folklore-in-iceland) and [here](https://wapp.is/galgahraun-gallows-lava/).
> 
> (I tend to post ficlets/WIPs on tumblr as cruelestmonth. And I'm on discord as April#3069.)


End file.
